I'll admit
I'm having too much fun
What of it?
The gold in the morning sun
Or the shadow-land
Tossed down by the moon
Tickle my hand
I tremble; I swoon
The soft blue spark
Flickering in your eye
Lights up the dark
I want to cry
Because of things
That are too far-gone
Their taunting sings
On hills wind-blown
But I draw them to me
Like faded sketches
Finding sympathy
In the wish-worn edges
Because after all
Is said and done
Darling, I'm having
Too much fun
Janet~
No comments:
Post a Comment
I hope you enjoyed your pause on this porch and thank-you for your visit!